


The unforeseen Death

by RougueShadowWolf



Series: 15 Minutes [42]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bullying, Cruelty, F/M, Homophobia, M/M, One-Sided Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Sad Ending, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-31 00:23:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3957466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RougueShadowWolf/pseuds/RougueShadowWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing could have prepared Sheriff Stilinski when it came to finding his only child dead in the bloodied water that filled the same bathtub where his late wife had often soaked in or bathed their little boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The unforeseen Death

**Author's Note:**

> SO here’s my attempt at paying for my bad luck, I was asked by one of my let’s call her Monday today, well she asked me to create something with Stiles killing himself, I was supposed to sort of make it without Stiles POV and instead use people like Melissa and the Sheriff as well as Lydia and Jackson and well this is all I managed to do. Now for those who aren’t familiar with 15 minutes allow me to enlighten you, so the story is written within the time given which is 15 minutes, which will result in bad writing so please be kind because it really isn’t easy to write something in 15 minutes (well not for me, maybe for someone else it is but not for me).

 

The house stood strangely silent and dark, which wasn’t all that strange considering it was rather late and sometimes his son did actually sleep. Finding the house so quiet and unenergetic made the Sheriff of Beacon Hills feel just a little bit less anxious and a little bit less strained and worn, the man knew there was something horribly and terribly wrong with him feeling the way he did about being back home; he knew that feeling like being home with his son was the worse option to choose from wasn’t right by any means, he knew this desire and want not to be around his only family member wasn’t alright at all, and yet that was exactly how he felt. 

 

Gregory Stilinski sat in the vehicle that came with his job, the job he’d lost for a moment because of his son, he sat there trying to find the strength to get out of the car and enter the house he and Claudia had bought by sacrificing a great big wedding that so many of their friends had expected them to do throw in the honor of their union, but instead of a ridiculously expensive dress and venue that would demand its own payment or a large wedding cake they chose to put the money on a house; they had tied the knot at the registry office on a Monday morning and bought the house two hours later. 

 

It took him about ten minutes to find what strength and courage he needed to get out of the car, he glances at the Jeep his wife had once driven around in and which their son now drove, the vehicle had seen better days and it angered the man who still clung to the memories of his late-wife with all his might to see the damage his son had caused with his reckless behavior. 

 

The Sheriff paused at the door of the house that once held so much promise, he’d carried Claudia across the threshold and upstairs into their bedroom after they had signed the papers and the house was theirs, he’d also carried his baby boy into the house on the day Claudia and he were finally able to bring him home all pink and tiny, but these days the house held no hope it was but a painful memory and the place he was most likely to find his son at unless he’d sneaked out even though he was grounded. 

 

Unlocking the door and stepping inside the house which he’d been avoiding for weeks now, he suddenly felt a chill enter his body, seeping deep into his bones. There’s an almost an ungodliness to the silence that ruled the house of Gregory Stilinski, it brings shivers down his spine and has he’s flipping the light switch as soon as it is possible to do he wonders whether or not Stiles had once more left a door or a window open by mistake but at the same time he knows there are now windows or doors left open because of late his son had begun to keep windows and doors locked.

 

He stands by the stairs leading to the second-floor pondering his choices; should he check on his son now or later? 

 

The choice he makes is simple and easy, he heads into the kitchen a familiar thirst irritating his throat and making his teeth ache and his tongue dry even though his mouth waters. The search for a bottle of Jack is far more desirable than chasing after his delinquent son. He just needs a drink or two, having a drink isn’t really a need now but a strong craving which he needs to attend too before he faces anything else such as Gen… no, Stiles… Genim was the name of the little boy who’d been the apple of his eye, while Stiles was the constant source of humiliation and trouble as well as the deadly amount of worry that plagued Greg’s life.

 

The kitchen was spotless not that he’d expected it to be anything less, since Stiles kept the house clean and in tip-top condition a habit that had started soon after his mother’s death, of course Stiles’ own room was at best a disaster area. Greg removes his firearm and places it on the kitchen counter, while his jacket ends up on the back of one of the chairs by the table he hasn’t sat at in nearly a month. The fridge is his first stop in the kitchen, he opens the door that had once upon a time held colorful pictures his little boy had drawn and the magnets his wife always bought from different locations she’d visit but these days there were only a few magnets and nothing else, he wasn’t sure when exactly they’d stopped placing Stiles A’s on the fridge or when Stiles had stopped leaving message for him on the smooth surface of the fridge that was nearly as old as Stiles was. He took a quick look inside the fridge,he knows he shouldn’t be surprise or take it personally when he finds that Stiles hadn’t made him dinner considering how he hadn’t been home in weeks choosing instead to stay at Melissa’s or sleeping on the uncomfortable couch in his office down at the Sheriff’s station. ** ** Greg is however slightly surprised to find the fridge almost empty, only a few cans of soda and a bottle of ketchup reside in the fridge and nothing more, closing the empty space where there usually was enough food for the both of them Greg begins to go through the cupboards where he would expect at least to find some form of food, he finds them in the same sad state as the fridge; he found a can of sliced pineapples and half of package of chocolate chip cookies, there wasn’t even can of sundried tomatoes or cereal in there just the cookies and pineapples and a bottle of Jack. ****

 

He promises to restock the house and talk to his son in the morning, they could do the grocery shopping together if Stiles was willing to follow his old man to the store, they could even have breakfast at Stiles favorite dinner if everything went well with the talk; Melissa was expecting them for dinner so Stiles wouldn’t need to make them dinner. It felt like a good promise to make, a good plan to go through with as the first glass of whiskey settled in his belly and the liquor eased the ache in his soul and it convinces him that with the new day life will be better for him and Stiles.

 

Morning comes around bright and cruel forcing Greg awake from his drunken slumber, there’s a foul taste in his dry mouth, his head aching like someone had beat him over the head with a hammer while his eyes just feel like they are about to throb right out of their sockets. **** He’s disoriented and confused for a while until his eyes focus and his mind is back on track, it takes him a while to get his body to at least sit upright, the lack of a blanket has him frowning because usually Stiles would have done that much for him, it takes him several attempts to get up on his feet; usually there would have been a bottle of water on the coffee table and an assortment of vitamins and painkillers but this morning there was none which he finds odd for Stiles had never resented him for his drinking enough to leave him to suffer through a hangover on his own. 

 

He stumbles, sways, his way towards the stairs. He needs to empty his aching bladder and he’s sure wetting himself will not make facing his son any easier, and Greg needs to take a shower and brush his teeth before he takes the bull by the horns and talk to Stiles. 

 

The stairs had never felt like Mount Everest before, he coughs a few times and curses a few times more as he hits his toes on the stairs, and by the time his up on the second floor he’s not in the happiest of moods and so when Gregory Stilinski sees that his son had left the lights on in the bathroom he curses his ridiculous name; until Stiles got a job and started paying half of the bills he should stop leaving the lights on in every room, and he’d better start respecting his father and the rules he’d made for him. 

 

Greg walks into the bathroom and heads straight to the toilet when his aching bladder has truly become just a bit too much to handle, he moans as the pressure eases, it was then as he turned his head towards the bathtub contemplating if he should take a shower or attempt at having a bath that something caught his eye; the bathtub where his lovely wife had bathed and soaked for hours and where she’d washed their son was full of a strange colored water, there was something familiar about the color and he knew he’d seen it before but it takes his still drunken brain to register the details of the scene before him, and it’s only when he sees the top of what he knows to be his sons head that he realizes what’s happened. 

 

A horrific scream erupts in the small space while Greg lunges towards the bathtub his pants unbuttoned and unzipped. He drags his only child out of the disgusting water; his baby boy is as cold as the water he’s been soaking in, he’s limp and heavy in his father’s tired arms the dead weight causing Greg to lose his grip and so the boy sinks back into the horrible water like a stone; he’s so small suddenly, or the tub had become a deep lake of bloodied water making it easier for Stiles vanish into the depths of the bloody bath. 

 

He’s screaming, screaming for help over and over again while fighting to try and rescue his son from the horrible bath.

 

When he finds the strength to pull his little boy out of the water he lays his body down on the floor as gently as possible, refusing to believe that his brave boy had slipped away from him. Greg hurries to g rab one the smaller towels and wraps them around the damages his son had done to his wrists, `Oh baby boy what have you done? ´ the sheriff sobbed while wrapping the towel tightly around the wrists, his brain unwilling or just simply incapable of understanding what the lack of escaping blood meant.

 

`Don’t do this baby boy,´ Greg sobs while he starts to breathe air into the lunges of his only son, he begs him not to leave while trying to force the unmoving heart to start once more, `Don’t leave me son,´ between the begging and attempts to bring back his son he screams for help, `Stay with me. Please don’t leave me.´

 

** ~*~ **

 

He’s been here before. He’s seen this all before. 

 

A lifeless body all cold on the slab, naked under a useless sheet, cut and patched up. However there are a few details different from all those times before, one of which is the fact that Greenberg and he weren’t standing together talking about the deceased on the slab while swapping stories about their sons to each other, and unlike before Greenberg looks genuinely grieved and the man was nursing a bruised cheek. Then there was the wrongness of the body that was lifeless and cold, all cleaned-up now, the body was that of _his_ son. The body was all that he had left of his baby boy. 

 

Gregory Stilinski held the hand of his only child as he stood there useless. He finds that even now at sixteen his son’s hand was still so small and fragile looking compared to his, there was something far more delicate about the hand he was now holding. 

 

Greg knows he’s alone now with the last living memory of Claudia dead, he can’t wrap his mind around the fact that his little superhero had taken his own life as if it held no worth at all; Stiles had killed himself, he’d died alone in an empty house. 

 

His baby had been alone and hurt as he died, bruises littering his pale skin and not only were those marks new to Greg but so was the realization that his son had been one the ever increasing numbers of teenagers cutting themselves; but he’s willing to pass the knowledge of scars for the idea that someone had been bruising his son, hurting him enough to push his precious boy to end his life before it had even started. He was certain that part of the reason for his son to end-up in the morgue all cold and lifeless was because of those signs of abuse and those responsible for his son’s death would pay. 

 

Gregory Stilinski, the Sheriff of Beacon Hills, would find the bastards one way or another.

 

`I promise you, I promise you son, I will find them, and I’ll find every single one that did this to you. I swear baby. I promise you. I will find them, all of them.´

 

** ~M~ **

 

The level of frustration Melissa McCall was in when she found that Greg had yet to contact her, he’d promised her that he would go home and talk with Stiles, he’d promised her that he would call her as soon as the conversation between father and son was over and done. **** Melissa pushed her phone into her pocket, she’d come to carrying it around all the time now because of the knowledge that there was one person in the supernatural craziness that was still very much human and in the middle of it all; if Scott or anyone else called her and told her Stiles was hurt she would rush to the his aide.

 

Her shift was finally over and all she wanted was to get home and call Greg, and he’d better be dead because no other excuse would grant him salvation as she’d for weeks allowed him to stay at her house granting him the needed time to moan and groan about his son. Greg knew Stiles was keeping secrets, hiding things from him, and Melissa wished she could convince Stiles to tell his father about what he’d been up too because Greg would understand the need to protect the ones that were held close to one’s heart for Stiles was as much like his father as he was similar to Claudia in appearance.

 

Melissa waved goodbye to a few of her coworkers, but her mind was focused on the boy who looked so much like Claudia Stilinski it really wasn’t a surprised that the Sheriff found it difficult to look at his son of course none of this was faire on Stiles who’d taken over the cooking and cleaning after Claudia’s departure, it wasn’t Stiles fault he looked like his mother and it wasn’t entirely Stiles fault that he’d been dragged into the supernatural world. 

 

Stiles Stilinski was a good kid who’d at the young age of eight started to take care of his father, making sure he didn’t kill himself with alcohol and fast-food, Stiles had protected and helped Melissa’s son without much thought about his own life or safety. 

 

Genim Stilinski was a good kid and Melissa did not care much for the way Greg had been dealing with his son, and she did not agree with the decision Stiles had made regarding keeping Greg in the dark about the werewolves of Beacon Hills. Hopefully Melissa would be able to convince Stiles to break the secrecy that was slowly destroying both of the Stilinski’s, she could see the way the stress was slowly killing both of them, even Scott had noticed it, mentioned it to Melissa; he’d told her how Stiles smelled of tears and sadness as well as blood and pain, he’d caught his friend breaking down into uncontrollable tears without warning, Scott had even mentioned how Stiles had started to pretend to eat during lunch and if he did eat he’d soon rush to the nearest toilet.

 

Melissa was almost at her car when her phone began to sing. The caller ID has her answering the call at once. She managed to keep her voice steady and calm even if she was anything but calm as she was growing sick of all of the excuses Greg had for drinking and avoiding his son. Melissa was done allowing Gregory Stilinski to get away with neglecting his only child. 

 

`Greg.´ she winched slightly at the clipped tone of her voice, but shrugged it off as she unlocked the car doors, well three out of four wasn’t bad right, and slipped into the vehicle. 

 

This was it, she knew this was it, the beginning of a new beginning for their small families or the beginning of the end to what had been blooming between her and Greg. Stiles could be less than accepting of her and Greg’s relationship and the desire to merge their households, and if Stiles was against it well then so would Scott; but if Stiles were to accept Melissa’s and Greg’s relationship and the want they had to share a roof then even if Scott would be initially against it Stiles could brining him on board.

 

And the reason they had chosen to tell Stiles first was simply because they knew Stiles reaction would seal their fate. 

 

`He’s gone. Mel, Gen is gone.´ 

 

His voice was unfamiliar, and she has to take another look at the name on the tiny glowing screen that was slightly cracked after she’d dropped it a few nights ago. 

 

`Gone? ´ Melissa asks, ready to go out on the hunt for the boy she’d believed to have been much more levelheaded than this, running away from home simply because his father and the mother of his best friend wanted to stop hiding like forbidden lovers; she was divorced and he was a widower, surely they had the right to find happiness in each other?

 

`We’ll find him, Greg, and we’ll talk to him.´ Melissa continues to say without hesitation, she’s livid with the boy for behaving this way, she’s so upset with Stiles that she nearly misses what Greg says in the same voice he’d used when he’d told her Claudia had died, `Mel. Mel, he – he killed himself.´

 

Her heart does something unfamiliar in her chest, and she feels suddenly cold all over, and she can barely ask the following question, `Wh-what did you say?´ 

 

Melissa can hear him crying, and Greg sobs out after a few minutes, `Stiles is dead Mel, my baby boy is dead.´

 

Everything just stops. The car that had slowly been moving, when she’d been eager and ready to chase down the Sheriff’s son stops, her mind snaps and she drops the phone as if it had burned her. 

 

Melissa McCall breaks down inside her old and beaten car, she screams and cries, hits the steering wheel as well and anything else her hands can strike, she screams and trashes until someone drags her out of her car, she continues screaming and crying because she feels like she’d lost her own child, she doesn’t settle or calm down until she feels a sharp sting and her mind grows drowsy, and before the darkness takes her she mutters or slurs out, `Not my Stiles. He, he can’t be dead.´

 

** ~S & A~ **

 

Scott McCall had been in the middle of taking a shower buzzed with love and happiness. Life was good again with him and Allison they were back together again, with his mother at work and Mr. Argent out of town he and Allison had spent the night together uninterrupted, undisturbed, well almost at least because Stiles had sent a meaningless message that just showed how bitter he’d become after Scott started to hang around more with Isaac; and well perhaps the whole prank they’d pulled on him with Lydia and Jackson as well as Erica and Boyd hadn’t been all that funny in the end, but Stiles’ didn’t need to be so bitter as he’d become. 

 

Thinking about Stiles began to diminish the happiness he’d been feeling, with a frown on his face Scott decides to deal with Stiles during dinner to which he’d invited Allison too without his mother knowing it, yet. But his mom would just be happy for him, so everything was fine.

 

He’s nearly finished with his shower when his phone starts to vibrate against the tiled counter Scott barely catches it before it vibrates itself off of the counter. He recognizes the number it’s from the hospital where his mother works and so he answers it at once. Hearing that his mother’s had a fit of sorts has him rushing out of the bathroom, getting dressed in a hurry without saying a word to Allison who was still in his bed. He tries to call Stiles because he’d want to know if something was wrong with him or his mom, but even after four tries Stiles has still not answered and so Scott yells out message for Stiles to listen too once he’s finished behaving like a spoiled brat.

 

`Answer the phone Stiles! ´ 

 

Allison is dressed by now realizing something is wrong, and she’s ushering him out of the house and towards her car.

 

`You call yourself a friend, where are _you_ when _I_ need you?! You are fucking useless Stiles! ´ Scott screams into his phone not bothered what the neighbors might think.

 

`Scott.´ Allison snaps while Scott ends the call, angry tears flowing down his face, he knows he’s gone too far but he doesn’t care because he’s worried about his mom. And Allison seems to get that much because she doesn’t push the issue further, but she does look disappointed with him as they get into her car and drive towards the direction of the hospital.

 

Scott does try to call Stiles once more just as they drive into the parking lot, but there is still no answer from his supposed best friend. Scott leaves another angry message which ends only when Allison snaps at him and rips his phone out of his hand, together they made their way into the hospital where they are greeted by one his mother’s friends, one of which Scott is able to recognize because the woman had been to their house rather often; the nurse looks exhausted but happy to see Scott, Rachel the name pops into Scott’s head as they make their way towards his mother’s room, she tells him his mother had been found in her car hysterical and that they had to sedate her. 

 

The news was enough to have the werewolf clutching tightly to his girlfriend, who by just her presence could calm Scott down enough not to lose control and wolf-out in public, and a sense of calm washes over him when Rachel informs him that the Sheriff is with his mother; knowing that Greg was watching over his mother eased the crushing sensation that had hit him when the news of his mother being hospitalized had reached him. 

 

The nurse Rachel promises Scott that his mother will be alright once she’d had her rest, and then before opening the door to the small room where Scott’s mother was sleeping on a small bed. Scott had never seen his strong mother ever look so weak and worn as she did then and there. Greg Stilinski sat by the bed holding his mother’s hand while desperate tears fell from him without hesitation, the sight of a crying Sheriff does nothing to reassure Scott it instead has him convinced the world was about to end. The sight of the strongest man Scott knows crying with such heart wrenching desperation that has Allison rushing over to the man in an attempt to give him some comfort, and like a distressed child the Sheriff turns towards the comfort Allison offers him. 

 

`Sheriff? ´ Allison breathes out as the sheriff tightens his hold around her, his behavior was enough to frighten the werewolf and the huntress, both exchanging worried glances. Dread settled inside of Scott who glanced over at his mother and back again at the sobbing man who’d come to every Lacrosse game to cheer him on as if Scott was his own son. 

 

`Stay with him, ´ Scott tells Allison who just nods, `I – I’ll go and call Stiles, okay? ´ Allison pulls out Scott’s phone and attempts to hand it over to Scott but the Sheriff stops her by placing his shaking hand on top of hers. 

 

The last time Scott had seen Greg look so devastated was on Claudia Stilinski’s funeral, it’s enough to make Scott feel like he really needs Stiles, because he was good at comforting people; he was good at taking care of Greg. 

 

`He’s gone Scott.´ the voice is almost familiar, and Scott sees the familiar mouth move to speak, `he’s gone Scott. Stiles is dead.´

 

There’s a loud gasp from Allison, the sheriff has stopped sobbing but tears are still escaping.

 

`W-what? ´ Scott asks still unable to grasp what he’s been told.

 

`Stiles is dead Scott.´ there’s a weakness in the sheriff’s voice, `he’s gone Scott.´ and while crying once more like his tears could bring back Stiles, the broken man repeats the words, `My baby’s gone Scott. He’s gone. Dead.´

 

`No.´ Scott refuses to accept this horrible lie. 

 

`He’s dead.´ Gregory Stilinski repeats, `I found him – in the bathtub –he’d killed himself.´ 

 

`No.´ Stiles couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t be dead because Stiles had promised Scott that he would always be there for him, always. He’d promised him this during the nights when he’d wrap himself around Stiles while they listened to Rafael and his mother argue, he’d promised to never leave him on the day Scott’s father left him and his mother. 

 

`Since yesterday, ´ the man said with voice full of shame and sorrow, `he’s been dead since yesterday Scott. ´ 

 

Scott shakes his head because none of it could be true, he’d seen Stiles at school sure he hadn’t talked with him because he’d been too caught up with Isaac and Allison and Stiles hadn’t made any effort to talk with him not since weakly forgiving Scott for being a part of a little joke pulled on the boy who had made one dog joke after another to each of the werewolves, and Stiles had sent him that ridiculous message last night as well. Stiles couldn’t be dead. 

 

` Stiles been dead since yesterday, ´ Greg tells him but Scott can’t believe it, he won’t believe it, `Greenberg said he’d been dead since yesterday, about 5PM. He sliced his wrists open and bled-out in the bathtub, all alone – he died all alone Scott. Oh God.´ the Sheriff went back to sobbing like his life was over. It felt like he was falling apart and maybe he was because Scott as hell felt like he was crumbling. 

 

`No. No, this can’t be true.´ Allison says looking almost like she’d been the one who’d lost her best friend but Scott knew there was some resentment between Stiles and Allison, one which Scott hadn’t bother much to settle or understand. 

 

Scott shakes his head some more because none of this could be true, this was some game Stiles was playing, some sick joke because Stiles couldn’t die not by his own hand, maybe by Derek’s or Peter’s or hell even Isaac’s but not his own. 

 

The young werewolf couldn’t bring himself to believe that his best friend who had been his only friend for so many years when he’d been nothing more than the asthmatic loser, Stiles had stayed with him even after he’d been forced to become a werewolf and he’d forgiven Scott every time he’d lost control of his wolf and attacked the still very human teen; someone like that couldn’t just abandon people like that, they just couldn’t. 

 

`No, Stiles wouldn’t, he wouldn’t do this.´ Scott says voice just a bit too frantic, `he wouldn’t.´ the father of his best friend stops crying and he turns to glare at Scott, there’s so much anger there that it makes Scott take a step back.

 

`Well, Scott, ´ the anger isn’t just in the eyes that appeared red and raw, but in the voice of the man who had more than once been there to support and help Scott’s mother when she was struggling to get divorced from Scott’s father, the man who’d talked with Scott teachers when his mother couldn’t; the man who had been more of a father to him than what Rafael had been. 

 

`He did.´ the words are so angry, so cold, that they make Scott shiver, `he took his own life. ´ His eyes glare straight at Scott as he asks, `How long have you known that Stiles was being hurt? ´ 

 

The question has Scott stumbling backwards because his legs suddenly felt like they wouldn’t hold him and he needed some form of support, the accusation that Stiles was being hurt by someone without Scott knowing it made absolutely no sense at all. 

 

`You should have told me! ´ the sheriff yells while pushing himself up on his feet, causing Allison to stumble back.

 

`I could have helped him! I could’ve done something! ´

 

`He – he was hurt? ´ Scott asks as he leans back against the wall, the world is spinning with this new piece of information and suddenly he understands all the times Stiles had winched when he’d moved and whimper when touched or rather pushed or shoved against a locker or walls. 

 

`There were bruises, up and down his arms and back and stomach. And now – now he’s dead Scott! ´ His words are harsh and cruel, and Scott can’t help the feeling of suddenly being a very horrible person, because why wouldn’t Stiles tell him that someone was hurting him? Why couldn’t he trust him enough to tell him?

 

Allison is sobbing in the corner, shaking her head and Scott couldn’t make out what she was mumbling behind her hand which was covering her mouth. 

 

`Y-you didn’t know?´ the disbelief in the sheriff’s voice worse than the anger, because it tells Scott that even Greg was slowly realizing that something hadn’t been alright between Scott and Stiles for months. 

 

Scott should’ve known, he should have been the first person to know that something was wrong, that someone or more than one person was hurting his best friend.

 

Scott can feel his world caving in on him and he can’t handle it, he needs Stiles. He needs Stiles right now to make sense of everything, to fix everything, because that’s what Stiles does. 

 

`You didn’t know.´ the man sighs and sinks back into the chair he’d been occupying, the sheriff rests his elbows on his thighs and leans forward and covers his face with the same hands that had picked Scott and Stiles up hundreds of times, the same hands that had shown Scott how to fix his bike and the same hands that had ruffled his hair on numerous occasions. 

 

`Did he tell anyone? ´ Greg asks from behind his hands, before removing them and running his fingers through his already ruffled hair, `Scott, if you know of anyone, _anyone_ that might have…. I need to know.´

 

Scott doesn’t have an answer and he feels horrible for it, and he feels like he’s somehow failing his friend even further with the lack of knowledge. 

 

** ~L & J~ **

 

There was what felt like a permanent smile on Lydia Martins face, she’d managed once again to get what she’d wanted which always brought the greatest of smiles upon her lips; there was a far greater joy in getting what she wanted than a pair of new heals she could easily afford.Of course she’d known that Jackson would eventually drift back to her, he always did when he had his little crisis and went about sleeping around with the whores of Beacon Hills High School; she’d never worried about those sluts getting into Jackson’s heart which she ruled. 

 

Lydia began to brush her hair while still watching Jackson, watching her prize getting dressed slowly just for her, she had just started to ponder whether or not she could afford to have another roll-around with Jackson on his bed when her phone gave a familiar sound. Lydia grabs her phone and finds that there are two messages of which one is surprisingly from Stiles and the other from Allison, she deletes Stiles message without even glancing at it while giving Allison’s the time it deserved. 

 

** Stiles is DEAD Lydia! He killed himself yesterday! **

 

Lydia nearly drops her phone. She reads the message over and over again until the words settle in her rattled brain; Stiles was dead, gone, the curious boy had taken his own life. Lydia looks up at Jackson who had stopped trying to get his hair in to a respectable shape, `Babe, what’s wrong? ´ He moves towards her, `You look like you’ve seen a ghost.´ he’s got his own phone out now. 

 

`Stilinski… he…´ is all Lydia gets out, all she can manage to say while feeling like her soul had been ripped right out of her body, she’s cold from head to toe. 

 

There’s a snort from Jackson, `Listen to this message _he_ sent me,´ and Lydia knows who “she” is and when Jackson starts to readout the message Stiles had sent his voice is mocking and it makes Lydia feel just a little bit closer to vomiting, `Jackass stop being a dick.´ he laughs at the end. 

 

`Jackson...´ Lydia says voice chocked and she can barely hold back her tears. Lydia might have been a bit disenchanted by Stiles but she’d never wanted this, she’d never wanted Stiles dead and gone. 

 

`Seriously, who is he to send me a message? ´ Jackson laughs, he starts undoubtedly to reply to the message Stilinski had sent him, but he stops when Lydia croaks, `Stiles is dead.´ 

 

Jackson’s smirk cracks a little and he looks at Lydia as if asking her what she was playing at, and so Lydia continues to say, `Allison, she – she sent me a message, ´ Lydia lifts up her phone so that Jackson can read the message and Jackson does before snatching her phone right out of Lydia’s hand and she’s to shaken-up to protest. He uses her phone to call someone all she can think about is the boy Lydia might have just pushed over the edge during the previous two months or so.

 

`WHAT THE FUCK ARGENT!´ Jackson’s roar snapped Lydia out of her tearful thoughts of all the wrongs she’d done to perhaps push Stiles to take the last exit of his life, she was sure coming-up with the great plan to make Stiles look a proper fool for once had been the last straw.

 

`You’ve gone to fucking far spreading this shit around.´ Lydia quickly swipes away the first tear to escape her just as Jackson goes absolutely grey. 

 

That little tear that had escaped her was enough to switch Lydia back into the Ice-Queen mode with which she had managed to survive High School this far. 

 

** ~D~ **

 

Derek Hale had never imagined Stiles Stilinski’s life would end the way it had. He’d imagined it would end due to Stiles need to protect his friends, Derek had always feared he’d witness Stiles get ripped to pieces of drained from his blood by supernatural creature or that he’d see the boy get shot or stabbed by hunters, he’d never imagined that Stiles would leave them all in such a lonely and sad way. Derek had never imagined Stiles would take his own life. He’d never thought for a second that the stupid, cruel, childish prank the others had pulled on the pale-skinned youth would be enough to push Stiles to kill himself. 

 

But now as he stood amongst the very few who’d come to say their farewell and give their support to the grieving father Derek began to realize how wrong he’d been to think Stiles would just brush the incidence that had happened a week and four days ago, he couldn’t stop seeing the way Stiles had seemed crumble or shrink into himself as the cruel laughter coming from the others in their small pack echoed off of the walls of Derek’s loft. Derek understood now that something inside of Stiles had broke, shattered beyond repair that horrible evening when Derek had rejected Stiles hopeful heart. 

 

Derek knew he should’ve done more to make sure Stiles was fine after the trick the other’s had played on the kid, Derek should’ve done more to make sure that those involved in tricking Stiles to believe that he Derek Hale was interested in him romantically, which sadly Derek hadn’t been, were dealt with properly; he should’ve dragged each of them over to Stiles and force them to apologize and he should’ve taken each phone that had documented the moment of Stiles humiliation and crushed them. Derek should’ve done more to help Stiles, to make sure the boy who stopped calling him or coming over to his loft was fine, because Derek had liked Stiles and found him amusing and trustworthy, he’d hoped they were friends but then again Derek hadn’t exactly shown friendliness at the moment when Stiles had suddenly kissed him while thinking the others had left.

 

_ Derek tried to dry away the far too eager and far too clumsy kiss off of his lips while glaring at Stiles who was now on the floor where he’d landed _ _ after Derek had pushed him away, Isaac and Erica are laughing their ass’s off while Erica is recording the unfortunate scene on her phone, Boyd thankfully stays silent, Scott isn’t there to do shit for his friend who looks like he’s lost for a moment as he looks around the room all confused and hurt. Lydia and Jackson are smirking from where they are standing, both of them documenting the moment with their stupidly expensive phones.  _

 

_ `I – I thought…´ Stiles stuttered eyes wide and watery, lover-lip trembling.  _

 

_ `You thought what? That I’m gay? ´ Derek snaps, he’s aware of how angry and disgusted he sounds although he’s far more shocked than angry by the kiss. `You seriously think that I could ever be interested in you? ´ Derek asks voice unnecessarily cruel and hard.  _

 

_ `You really thought he’d want you.´ Jackson laughed while Stiles tried to scramble up on his feet, the first tears now escaping for all to see and Derek doesn’t sense that a single person in that room takes those drops in consideration as they all continue to laugh and mock the poor kid who stumbles out of the loft only to sob out loudly right outside the door.  _

 

If only Derek had gone after the boy that night, just to apologize for being a jerk or to just drag the crying teen somewhere where they could talk about the unfortunate incident,; Derek should’ve made sure Stiles understood that there was someone out there who’d love him the way he deserved to be loved, that although Derek had been an asshole he still cared for Stiles but only as a friend. Derek regretted not even doing anything to those involved in nasty affair, he knew he should’ve done something instead of just huffing angrily and glaring at his betas, he should’ve done something to stop Jackson and Lydia from sharing the video of Stiles rejection with the rest of Beacon Hills High School. Derek knew he should’ve done more. 

 

Derek had almost not attend the private function of sorrow and sad remembrance of a life lost far too soon, but in the end he’d gone to the funeral simply because he felt he owed Stiles at least that much considering how his pack-mates had been the ones to cause even more ridicule to follow Stiles around Beacon Hill’s high school; it hadn’t taken long before everyone in town knew how Stiles had suffered daily abuse from fellow students of the local high school, it didn’t take long for realization dawned that unless you were popular and well connected being a gay kid in Beacon Hill’s high school wasn’t an easy thing deal with because homophobia was well and truly alive amongst a great deal of the students as well as a handful of teachers. 

 

Derek hadn’t been sure he could handle standing there amongst the grieving while watching as the simple plain coffin was lowered into the ground just a stone’s throw away from the place where his mother laid, but in the end Derek just had to go to the funeral because he owed Stiles that much. 

 

He held the sunflowers all sixteen of them, one for each year Stiles Stilinski had lived, tightly in his arms like they were a small babe. Derek knew his choice in flowers was an odd choice but Stiles had loved sunflowers or at least that’s what Derek had once heard the kid say, and Derek wasn’t the only with sunflowers; Scott McCall who was pale and trembling where he sat next to his mother who looked like she’d aged a hundred years or so held a single sunflower, and then there was a kid who had to be a classmate of Stiles and he was sobbing ungracefully against Danny and Derek had to wonder who this guy was but then again it didn’t really matter in the end. 

 

Derek looks over at his Betas none of them had been particularly close to Stiles when he’d been alive but now when he was gone Erica was sobbing into Boyd’s broad chest while the youth shed his own tears in a silent and stoic sort of way, Isaac looked lost and confused where he stood behind Scott his hand Scott’s shoulder. Peter stood next to Derek who stood beside Isaac, Peter showed no emotion as they listened to words of no comfort and watched as the coffin slowly sank into the hole in the ground, but Derek sensed the grief his uncle had no desire to express.

 

Derek would never forgive or forget what had been done to Stiles, and he had made it perfectly clear to each member in his pack that he would never forget the wrongs done to one Stiles Stilinski. 

 

Derek would never forget how he learned of Stiles death, the way he’d gone to see the young man in order to ask for his help it had all been a pathetic attempt at hiding the fact that he’d begun to miss and worry about the teen, it had been the smell of blood that had made him break down the door of the Stilinski house and to rush upstairs to find an empty house and a messy bathroom. Stiles phone had still been on the bathroom counter. 

 

Derek had called Scott immediately only for the young werewolf not to answer, Derek then moved on to call Isaac who unlike Scott had answered and before Derek could’ve even say anything the beta Derek had cried out the words that still haunted Derek during the quiet minutes, `Stiles is dead.´ 

 

`Stiles is dead.´ the simple and short words formed a message which couldn’t be misunderstood even if the one delivering the words had been crying, and yet it had thrown Derek into a state of confusion one which continued on even after he’d gone to the morgue to see the truth. 

 

Derek would never forget seeing Stiles cut and patched back together again, lifeless and cold in the morgue. He’d stared down at the boy wondering how he still managed to look so gentle in death, he’d stood there until he was removed by force and arrested for trespassing as well as breaking into the miserable chamber of death. 

 

Derek could never remove the sadness and guilt that had settled in his chest on the day he saw Stiles dead and cold, and he would never allow a single member of his pack to forget what some of them had done to the boy who’d walked the earth for a far too short of awhile.

 

 


End file.
